


You're All Mine

by twirltheflag



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Good To Be Bad, Jaguar Commercials, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twirltheflag/pseuds/twirltheflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bane Mistress is a vigilante-for-hire. Currently, her profession has take her to London to target one Thomas Williams Hiddleston at the behest of an anonymous employer. The Bane Mistress believes that there is nothing in this world that she is not prepared for. How wrong she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, don't go calling the telephone number that I put in here cause you won't be contacting Tom if you do. I got the phone number form "Immortality" or "The Wisedom of Crocodiles" with Jude Law. Awesome movie!

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 1

“Gentleman”

The chocolate baritone voice purred from my ear piece.

That was the voice of my target. Thomas William Hiddleston.

I was hired by an anonymous employer to take Hiddleston out if his original back-up failed. I didn’t know why my employer wanted him dead and I didn’t care. You tend to not ask questions in the vigilante-for-hire business… especially when a very attractive sum is offered as your payment.

I heard my employers unzip a bag that they were supposed to give to Hiddleston. I can only assume that it was full of money.

“Excellent.”

The bag was zipped back up and given to Hiddleston, who took in and placed it in the trunk of his car.

Right as he was about to get into the driver’s seat and drive away with his prize, a black car screeched into the abandoned parking garage.

That was my employers original back up.

Before they could ever stop, there was a small boom, the sound of showering water, and brakes screeching.

According to the man in the black car, Hiddleston had attached a small bomb to a sprinkler system in the garage. The explosion wasn’t big enough to kill anyone, but it did start the sprinkler system. The patch of water made him spin out of control.

With that, Hiddleston got into his car and drove off, revving the engine to rub it in their faces.

I was up.

I mounted my black Harley Davidson Switchback motorcycle. One the screen of my fullhead helmet was down, I started the bike and took off after him.

It wasn’t hard to find him, even in the evening London traffic. Not many people can afford a pure white F-Type Coupe Jaguar. And those who do, usually obey the speed limits.

I pushed my bike harder to catch up with the devil in white.

Once I was right behind him, I slipped my gun out of my gun holster and aimed for his rear tires.

I pulled the trigger.

The bullets ricocheted in different directions.

Well, apparently the bastard had made his car custom; after all, no other car had metal shields that would wrap around their tires at the push of a button.

Well, fine then. I would just have to take him out at high speed.

After we had turned off onto a bridge, I swerved from behind him and into the lane next to him. I didn’t’ bother to look in his direction once I had pulled up; the windows were tinted and it was impossible to see into them.

As I kept my eyes on the road, I raised my gun.

Brakes screeched.

He had stopped allowing me to speed by him.

I gave my bike a hard turn that almost made me parallel to the ground. Once I was facing him again, the engine and leapt off the bike. I raised the gun again and steadied it with my free hand.

Without warning, he clicked on his brights. Good thing my helmet screen was tinted to, otherwise I would’ve been blinded.

The door to the driver’s side opened and closed.

His silhouette moved in front of his lights and started walking towards me.

What was he thinking? Here I was, pointing a gun at him, ready to pull the trigger, and he was approaching me like I was a harmless puppy.

Before I could do anything, Hiddleston grabbed my gun by the barrel and twisted it up and behind my head. My hands went with it since I was determined to keep a good grip on it and not let him get a hold of it. That would mean death for me.

While I was trying to pull my gun out of his grasp without shooting, Hiddleston tucked his free hand under my helmet and jerked it off my head, sending it flying somewhere.

Target and hunter were face to face.

I had seen a picture of Hiddleston when I was originally hired, but he looked harmless in that picture. I had to wonder how much of a challenge it had to be?

This 6’2” image that stared down at me was very different. His roman face was set in a strong, harsh, straight look that was impossible to read.

I tried to keep my face as straight as his so as not to give him the satisfaction of surprising me… for the third time that night.

Suddenly, he let out a smirking scoff.

He reached into the breast pocket of his freshly pressed, black-blue suit. He pulled out what had to be a business card, judging from its size and texture.

He showed me the card before slipping it into my chest cleavage with a single finger.

The gesture was shocking. This had never happened to me before.

In the midst of the shock, my grip on my gun had slackened.

Hiddleston ripped she gun from my fingers, pushing me back a few steps before pointing the weapon at me.

I looked between it and him, wondering if it was really the end.

With another smirk, Hiddleston lowered the gun, turned on his heels, and started walking back to his Jaguar, tossing the gun over the side of the bridge as he did.

Once he was back in his seat, Hiddleston turned off his brights and sped off, leaving me in the middle of the bridge, watching him as he went.

After a minute, I remembered the lewdly placed business card.

I pulled it out and looked at it.

Thomas Williams Hiddleston

Tel  
01719209511

No mention of a fake profession.

No mailing or emailing address.

Nothing.

I looked back up in the direction that he had sped off in.

Why would he give me his number?

What game was he playing at?


	2. Chapter 2

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 2

I WARNED YOU NOT TO UNDERESTIMATE HIM.

“Don’t worry; It’s a mistake I won’t be making again.”

I was speaking to my employer; I was on web cam receiving instant messages from them. I had heard of paranoid clients, but this was a little ridiculous.

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF HIM?

“Pardon?”

I AM ALWAYS CUROIS TO KNOW PEOPLE’S VIEW ON THINGS. EXPECIALLY WHEN THE SUBJECT IS MR. HIDDLESTON.

“… I found him… confusing…”

HOW SO?

“He gave me a business card with a phone number on it.”

For a while, my employer didn’t say anything.

DID HE SAY ANYTHING TO YOU?

“No, just gave me the card and drove away.” I decided against mentioning how Hiddleston had given me the card.

I’VE NEVER SEEN HIM DO SUCH A THING… YOU SAY THERE WAS A NUMBER ON THE CARD?

“Yeah.”

CALL THE NUMBER. TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS.

Before I could even try to object, my employer had gone off line.

Call the number. Like it was just that easy.

With a sigh, I pushed myself away from my laptop, made my way into my kitchen and took out a beer. I knew I was going to need alcohol for this.

I slumped onto the couch, beer in hand, and took out my cell with the business card.

I typed the number into the phone. Sending the call took about five minutes of steeling my nerves.

I know the drill when it came to phone answering; if it takes more than three rings, the chances of the receiver picking up are next to zero.

Which is why in nearly choked on my beer, hung-up the phone, and threw it across the room when I heard, “Hello darling” after the sixth ring.

Needless to say, I was dead set against answering the phone when it rang, showing “Private” in place of a number. 

It was him. It had to be.

I let the phone ring out. I was just gonna tell my employer that he didn’t answer when I called him.

He didn’t leave a message.

Instead, he called again, I didn’t answer.

And again. “Don’t answer it. Don’t answer it”

And again. I shoved the phone into a drawer. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

And again.

“That’s it.”

I took the phone back out and answered it without saying a word.

There was chuckling on the other end.

“Callback, darling. Get a private number before you go calling people who you don’t want to call you back.”

I didn’t give him the benefit of an answer to his teasing.

“So, which one of my many enemies decided to stick you on me? Strong? Benny? Come, let’s hear it.”

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh, so she can speak. And she’s American… but then again, I knew that. Didn’t I, Ashley?”

My eyes went wide as my breath hitched. 

There was no way that he could know. No one knew.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?”

“I haven’t used that name in years. How could you possibly know it?”

“I make a point to know about everyone in this city, my darling. After all, I own it.”

“Not for long.”

He let out a boisterous laugh. “You think you can take it from me?”

“That’s what I’ve been paid to do.”

“And how much are you being paid, dear?”

“None of your business.”

“Isn’t it? Chances are, I could match the price if not completely out do it. And you wouldn’t have to put your life in such danger.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take the danger over sinking to prostitution any day of the week.”

“I don’t see how vigilantism is any different from prostitution; either way, people are paying to use your body.”

“The difference is that one comes at the cost of my self-respect, and there’s not enough money in the world to get me to give that up.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing that that’s not what I would pay you to do.”

Then what did he want from me?

“I would simply pay you to just make “casual mistakes” while you’re trying to catch me.”

“I don’t make mistakes.”

“Not even for half a million pounds?”


	3. Chapter 3

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 3

I nearly choked on my beer for the second time when I heard the sum.

“I wasn’t even offered that much to kill you! How can you be willing to pay that much for me not to kill you?!”

“Well… I wouldn’t just be paying you to not kill me.”

Here comes the catch.

“You’d also have to play a little game with me.”

“Playing game with the devil doesn’t sound like the wisest decision.”

“Am I really the devil, now?” He sounded amused by the name.

“That’s what I’ve been told. Personally, I’m going to see more than fireworks and lewd gestures before I give you that title.”

“Oh, my darling, trust me. I can be far more of a gentleman… when I want to be.” My gut was telling me that that was supposed to be a threat. “Would you perhaps like some motivation for accepting my challenge for the game? Other than the money, of course.”

“What do you have that I could possibly want?”

“Protection.”

“From what?”

“Your employer.”

“Why would I need protection from my employer?”

“Believe me my dear; whoever your employer is, chances are that he won’t pay you want he’s promised… at least not in cash. More likely in bullet holes. Most of my enemies prefer tying up loose ends to keeping promises.”

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

“I make a point not to turn women into enemies. Unlike us men, they tend to be completely ruthless and rarely do they play fair.”

“On behalf of my gender, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With a humming laughter, he said, “I knew you would.”

“Let me guess; I don’t get the half a million unless I win the game.”

“Of course you don’t. What would the point of the game be? But the protection will be instant and constant.”

“How do I know you’ll play fair?”

“You don’t. In fact, I promise you right now that I’ll cheat.”

“So why bother?”

“Because there are two different kinds of cheating; there’s the kind that makes it a challenge for your opponent to win, and there’s the type that makes it impossible for your opponent to win. I am going to be doing the former. Can’t make things too easy for you now, can I?”

“… Can I think it over?”

“Of course, darling… you have five minutes.”

“WHAT?! THAT’S NOT ENOUGH TIME!”

“Four and a half minutes.”

“I need at least a day!”

“You’re not getting a day you’re getting four minutes and fifteen seconds.”

“Well, what if I don’t decide before the time is up?!”

“Then I’ll make the decision for you. Three minutes.”

“ALRIGHT! I’M IN!”

“A wise decision. If I may say so darling, you’re not off to a good start with our game.”

That was when I registered what I had said.

What have I gotten myself into?

“Oh, and darling? If you don’t mind, I’d rather you not tell your employer about this arrangement of ours.”

“And if I do mind?”

“Then my protection and money will be the last thing you get from me.”

“… Fine. Mum’s the word.”

“Well, you’re learning English well.”

“How do we play this game of ours, anyways?”

“Oh, you’ll figure it out.”

“When do we start?”

“Soon enough.”

After that, I was met with a dial tone.


	4. Chapter 4

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 4

It’d been almost 24 hours since my little phone chat with Hiddleston. I hadn’t heard anything from him or my employer.

I ended up telling my employer my original excuse: Hiddleston didn’t pick up when I called.

I had found myself waiting by the phone and my computer, nervously waiting for something – anything. It was pretty pathetic.

So, I took myself to the nearest movie theatre and bought a ticket for the longest movie possible, just to get my minds off of things.

Well, it worked… for a while anyways.

Movies don’t, usually, last longer than 2 hours… which means that my mind was back on topic.

Especially since I found my motorcycle missing after the movie.

Of course, I couldn’t call the police about it. First of all, I don’t mix well with the police. Second, I got a feeling that it was from somebody who could over rule or pay off the police. Namely, a certain millionaire who thought that he owned the whole damn city.

I resolved to walking back to my place. I wasn’t sacred of walking around London at night; anything that could happen, I could deal with.

Unless it was a problem that likes to drive a white F-Type Coupe Jaguar… that started following me.

I knew it.

I turned around and waited the car to catch up.

It pulled up and the passenger door opened to reveal a smiling Hiddleston in the driver’s seat.

“Need a lift?”

I didn’t answer. I just gave him a straight look before sliding into the seat and closing the door behind me.

“I understand that you wanted to get my attention, but I think that having my motorcycle stolen was a little over-dramatic.”

With a humming chuckle, he said, “I’m a dramatic man.” At which point, he shifted gears and starting flying through the city at a speed that was way above safe.

“You don’t say.”

My sarcasm didn’t faze him. In fact, it amused him.

“Am I correct in assuming this is Round 1?”

“Sort of.”

“Meaning?”

“I figure that with all the cheating I’m doing, I may as well give you a fighting chance. Since I know everything about you that’s on record, you need to know everything about me that’s on record.”

“So this is the ‘get-to-know-you’ portion of tonight’s speed dating?”

With another laugh he said, “If you’d like to call it that. So start asking questions.”

I had to, actually, think of my first question. Surprisingly enough.

“Why would my employer want you dead?”

“Well, you don’t waste time. Truth be told, darling, it could be a number of things. I dabble in many things that would make people unhappy with me.”

“Such as?”

“A little bit of blackmail. A little bit of ransoming. A little bit of stealing. A little bit of buying the government. A little bit of-”

“Everything?”

With a smile, he said, “Well, not everything, but there’s not much I haven’t tried. Next question.”

“I get the feeling that you don’t play this game with many people. So why me?”

“Because you could actually win.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your record. You can’t be afraid to do anything in this game because I’m going to push you. If I can’t even push you one step without you breaking, it won’t be any fun.”

“So, my goal is, simply not to ‘break’.”

“Correct.”

“What does that mean?”

“The definition tends to change with each new opponent. I have a good idea on how to break you, but it will take little experimenting.”

“Good to know I’m a guinea pig.”

That’s when his voice changed. “I would never dream of degrading you to a guinea pig, darling.”

His long, slender index finger brushed against my knee and started running up my thigh. 

I snapped my leg away from his touch, causing him to laugh.

“Well, that experiment was a success.”

That’s when I looked out the window and noticed that I didn’t recognize what part of town we were in. “Where are we going?”

“It just occurred to you to ask that question? Not very promising darling.”

“Answer the goddamn question.”

He scowled. “We’re going to get your motorcycle back.”

“So you stole it just to give it back?”

“Give? No. You have to earn it.”

“How?”

“You’ll see. Next question.”

I wracked my brain for things that I should know about this guy. 

“No more questions?”

“I’ve trained myself not to ask questions for my profession. Most people want me to know as little as possible.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing to hide from you, darling.”

That’s when we pulled into a group of storage shed units. We dove all the way to the very back of the property and stopped in between two, lonely shed.

Hiddleston killed the motor and got out. I wasn’t far behind him.

Hiddleston planted himself in between the two storage sheds before turning to me. He gestured to both sheds, saying. “Now, one of these sheds has your motorcycle. The other one has things that you’re better off not seeing. The question is, which one is which?”

I gave a him a blank, unimpressed look. “Really? This is one of the oldest riddles in the book. This is ancient Chinese proverb old.”

“Is it?”

I rolled my eyes and explained. “A traveler comes to a fork in the road. He wants to get to the Town of Truth-tellers, but the Town of Liars is right next to that town, so he doesn’t know why path he should take. There’s a man standing at the fork in the road wanting to get back to his own town, but the traveler doesn’t know whether the man is a Truth-teller or a Liar. If the traveler can only ask one question of the man, what should he ask the man so that he can get to the Town of the Truth-tellers?”

Hiddleston shrugged, waiting for my answer.

“Which storage shed do you own?” In the riddle, the traveler should ask the man to take him to his own town. A Truth-teller would take him to the town of the Truth-tellers because it’s the truth, and a Liar would also take him to the Town of Truth-tellers because that would be a lie. Easy peasy.

Hiddleston dug both of his hands into his pockets and pulled out two keys. “I own both of them.”

Shit. 

“Way to waste your question, Ashley. Now, you’ve got nothing but pure chance on your side.”

I looked between the two storage sheds, trying to figure out which one it had to be.

…

I walked up to Hiddleston, brushing past him as I grabbed the key to the storage shed on my right.

I walked up to the door, unlocked it, and pushed the garage-like door up.


	5. Chapter 5

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 5

The moonlight illuminated my motorcycle.

Thank god I had strange, dumb-luck.

I was so overcome with relief that I’d forgotten all about Hiddleston… until I felt my hair being lifted from my neck and being replaced by warm breathe.

I jumped away from him, holding the back of my neck.

“What the hell?!”

“I was just giving you a reward for guessing right.”

“My bike is reward enough, thanks.”

I made my way over to my bike, digging my keys out.

“Don’t you want to see what’s door number two?”

“Why?”

“Simply to see what you managed to avoid.” He dangled the other storage shed’s keys in his left hand. “Let’s see just how lucky you are, Bane Mistress.”

I thought about it. I was curious to see what kinda punishment he had planned for me if I had lost this round. Besides, maybe it was going to give me a hint as to how he intended to play this game… and, therefore, give me the upper hand.

I brushed past him, grabbing the other set of keys as I went.

I marched up to the second storage shed, unlocked it, and threw the door open.

“… It’s empty.”

“Was.”

Without any warning, Hiddleston shoved me into the shed, sending me to the ground.

I manage to glare back at him as he stepped into the shed with me. Even though I couldn’t see his face clearly, I knew he was smirking.

With a snap of his fingers, the shed’s door slammed closed and threw us both into darkness.

“… You dirty, rotten, bastard.”

“I did warn you that I was going to cheat. It’s your own fault for letting your guard down so easily.”

I got to my feet quickly when I started hearing his million-dollar shoes make their way over to me. I got on the balls of my feet, trying not to make a sound as I moved.

“Stealth won’t help you, darling. I see you.”

I froze. “So, what, Tom Cruise? You got night vision goggles?”

“Please, darling. I’m a simple man.”

I started backing away as his sounds advanced. “So how?”

“Haven’t you ever been to an eye doctor, darling?”

I was, initially, confused by the question. But then, I remembered; “The solution they use to dilate pupils can also assist in seeing in the dark.”

“It’s a pity that your brilliant mind didn’t start working until after you made your stupid mistake for the night.”

My back hit the tin side of the shed.

“Time to show you the consequences of your choice.”

He was right in front of me. I could sense him… and smell him. Gucci Guilty cologne… the kind that my favorite actor, Chris Evans, had once advertised for…

“If you didn’t like your reward, I wonder how well your punishment is going to go over.”

He slipped his hand past my hair to rest on my neck.

Instinct took over. I snaked my arm around his. When he tried to bend his arm to keep me from breaking it, he allowed me to put him into a chicken wing, twisting his arm behind his back. As I did so, we both heard a very distinct ripping sound.

I could feel the man go ridged. “Westwood.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Moriarty.” I dug my pocket knife out, opened it up, and put it to his neck. I pushed him towards where I thought the door was. “Just get the door open.”

“I have men out there who wouldn’t be very happy to see you threatening my life.”

“Get the door open and I won’t threaten anymore.”

“And if I don’t?”

“They have to open it sooner or later. I have no problem waiting with a dead man.”

We stood in silence for many minutes.

Then, he knocked on the door three times.

Suddenly, I could see everything again. The door slammed open and moonlight illuminated everything.

I flicked my knife closed and released Hiddleston. I started to make my way out of the storage shed before he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. He towered over me, glaring down at me. He pulled his suit jacket taunt so that I could better see the rip in the shoulder.

“This was an expensive suit.”

“Take it up with Saville Row.”

I ripped away from his grasp and marched up to my motorcycle. I mounted it, slipping my helmet on, before shoving the key in. I sped out of the storage shed units, leaving Hiddleston to glare at my back.

Once I got home, I looked at my phone and realized I had missed a call.

From Hiddleston.

And he left a message in my voicemail.

"I wanted to start off gently with you, darling. But if you like playing rough, then that’s how we’ll play."


	6. Chapter 6

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 6

ARE YOU SURE?

“I have tried calling him every day since I got the card. No answer.”

I was lying through my teeth.

It was the morning after my little storage shed adventure with Hiddleston. I was talking with my employer once again, knowing that I probably couldn’t keep up the “he-doesn’t-answer” excuse for long.

THEN PERHAPS WE NEED TO TAKE A DIFFERENT APPROACH TO THIS. THROUGH MY CONNECTIONS, I HAVE FOUND THE ADDRESS THAT THE PHONE BILLS FOR THE NUMBER YOU GAVE ME ARE SENT TO.

Suddenly, a map with a red flag showed up on my screen.

THIS IS THE ADDRESS. INVESTIGATE IT ASAP.

And with that, my employer had logged off.

…

Talk about an obscure location.

The map my employer had sent me led me to this old, abandoned house that must’ve been quiet the luxury bachelor pad back in the day. Now, it had no body to take care of it, though it still had left over, forgotten furniture. Couches. Dressers. Even a full length tub.

I searched through the whole house. There was no sign of any human contact that had happened recently.

That is, until I looked behind a door.

Hanging up in a protecting plastic bag was an asymetiral, off-the shoulder dress. It was nude colored with a black lace pattern. There was a shoe box with three inch high stilettoes inside waiting on the floor by the door.  
Both the shoes and the dress had sticky notes on them. Writing in elegant handwriting, they said, “Ashley. Change. –TWH”

How did he know that I would come that day?

I took the plastic off the dress to examine it more closely. The tag was still on it. Westwood. $696.

The shoes were Louis Vuittons. $279.

Who was he trying to impress? Or who did he think he was impressing? I couldn’t decide which question was more appropriate.

I had to wonder what he would do if I didn’t do as he said.

The curiosity got the better of me.

I hung the dress back up, closed the shoe box, and marched out of the house…

… to find two huge suits waiting for me.

“Miss, I’m afraid we can’t let you leave until you have changed.”

“Mr. Hiddleston insists that you be appropriately dressed for tonight.”

“Well, ‘Mr. Hiddleston’ can’t everything he wants.”

I started to brush past the behemoths, but they were built like two brick shit-houses. And they both had guns.

“Please, miss. We must insist that you change.”

I started to reach for my own gun, but didn’t remember that Hiddleston had thrown it over a bridge until I found it missing. I was gonna have to get a new one STAT.

I decided not to anger the giants. I back up into the house and walked back up stairs.

I didn’t know what was creepier; the fact that Hiddleston had figured out my dress and shoe size, or the fact that he had clearly gone through my underwear drawers to buy the right black lace bra and panty set size.

The moment I got done changing, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the suits with a plastic bag. “There’s a bath room right through there, miss.” Then he left.

I looked in the bag to find a hair iron that could straighten or curl hair, depending on how you used it, along with brand new un-used make up from Mac. 

“Use whatever you like and keep it all. – TWH” That was what the note on the bag said.

“Man, he is going all out.”

I considered not using anything and having him deal with my messy ponytail and bare face, but it got the feeling that the suits would pull what they did when I tried to walk out with getting into the dress.

I straightened my hair with the iron before doing my makeup, which consisted of black liquid liner, smoky eye-shadow, black mascara, and lipstick that was close to my nude lip color.

“You clean up quite well, darling.”

I hadn’t heard Hiddleston come into the room.

“Well, it was either clean up well or get a bullet in my head.”

“I told them to not be too rough unless you made it necessary.”

“’Cause that makes everything all better.”

I walked out of the bathroom to the room where he was waiting for me, dressed up like the dinner of a dog in a tuxedo.

He looked me up and down before twirling his finger, giving me the signal to turn. I rolled my eyes and did so in the most ungraceful way I could muster.

“Not bad… but there’s something missing.”

He slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out a long, black velvet box. He flicked it open to show me the contents; a choker made of three strings of pearls. The pearls alternated between black and white, and the center jewel was the second biggest blue diamond I’d ever seen. The biggest was the Hope Diamond in Washington DC.

“I thought you said you weren’t trying to buy my body.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you going to such trouble to impress me? By the way, it’s not working.”

He took the choker from the box and lifted it up to my neck. “I’m not trying to impress you. I’m simply giving you the same treatment that I give every lady. I did say that I could be a gentlemen when I wanted to be.” He fastened the choker on the back of my neck to emphasize the point. It didn’t feel gentlemanly or romantic at all. It felt more like he had just claimed me with a dog collar.

“I didn’t know being a gentleman was so expensive.”

“Darling, this has barely put a dent in my budget. Trust me.”

Once he was done, he stepped to my side, offering me his arm.

With a flip of my hair, I refused the arm and started walking by myself.

When he caught up, he grabbed my hand and gave it an extremely firm squeeze before wrapping my arm around his. A silent way of telling me that it wasn’t an offer.

He escorted me down the stairs and out of the house where his Jaguar was waiting for us. He beat me to the door, opening it for me. With a scowl, I slid in.

Once he got in the driver’s side, I asked, “So where are we going that requires us to be dressed up like this? The last time I checked, we missed the Royal wedding.”

With an amused chuckle, he answered with a simple. “You’ll see.”


	7. Chapter 7

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 7

The Royal Opera House.

The Royal. Fucking. Opera House.

Hiddleston pulled up to the front of the gigantic, Grecian style building. He got out, locking the doors as he did. This prevented me from getting out until he could get around, open me door, and offer a helping hand out of the vehicle.

I indulged him with a scowl.

As we walked into the building, he tossed his keys wrapped in a one-hundred pound note to the valet, who was only charging twenty pounds for his services. “Try to resist the urge to go drag racing this time, Martial.”

“Yes, sir.”

As we walked into the elegant building, I said, “I take it you’re a regular here?”

“That, my dear, is quiet the underestimation.”

I saw what he meant when we got into the actual theatre. He had his own private box that was cut off from everyone else by one way mirrors.

Hiddleston assisted me into my chair before settling in next to me.

“So, what are we going to see?”

“How well-versed are you in Opera?”

“Very little; I have heard of the popular ones; La Boheme, Carmen – “

“Don Giovanni?”

Of course, I had heard of that one. It was basically the classy version of John Tucker Must Die. I nodded in answer to his question, weary of what his reasons must be for bringing me to this specific show.

“Well, then. Let’s enjoy culturing you.”

Suddenly, one of the ushers showed up with two glasses of white wine. I’m pretty sure that “serving rich bastards” was nowhere in their job description, so my only guess was that Hiddleston was a valuable benefactor that the opera house couldn’t afford to lose.

Hiddleston hand me my glass and clinked his against mine in a lonely toast.

I sniffed the wine before I drank it.

Risata Moscato D'asti

I was tempted to ask him how he knew it was my favorite wine, but I knew I was going to get the same answer I got to all questions like that; “I know many things, dear” or something like that.

Besides, I didn’t have any time before the lights dimmed.

…

We were about half-way through Act I

Don Giovanni had already killed the father of his latest conquest, gained the wrath and sworn revenge of previous lover, and had found a new target in a young girl who was soon to be married.

I couldn’t help but feel that Hiddleston was waiting for something. I didn’t know what, but I knew it was trouble.

Don Giovanni invited the wedding party of his latest target, Zerlina, to his home to celebrate the engagement. Once everyone was inside, he stopped Zerlina outside his home to start his little song and dance. A naïve little girl like her didn’t stand a chance.

That was when my vision started to get a little blurry. I blinked a lot and started rubbing my, trying to rub the encroaching sleep out of my eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. My eyes are just getting…”

I suddenly saw my wine glass.

I looked between Hiddleston and the glass.

He didn’t even try to look or act innocent.

When I stood up to make a run for it, my legs went numb. I collapsed to the floor.

“You roofied me.”

“No, I didn’t. All I didn’t was give you a little muscle relaxant with a drowsy side-effect to put you at ease.”

“Sounds like a roofy to me.”

He stood up and unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket, taking it off. “Using a roofy would mean that had the intention of raping you while you’re incapacitated. I assure you, that’s not what I have in mind at all.”

“Then why drug me?”

“I didn’t want you to rip another suit.”

Once I heard that, I didn’t care what he had drugged me with. I started crawling as best as I could, trying to get to the door. Maybe the usher would do something to stop him.

I didn’t get far before he said, “I’d lie still if I were you. You’re only gonna wear yourself out.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Even if were the type to do so, sound proof room, darling. No one can hear you outside of here, hence why we have been listening to the entire show through speakers.”

I glared at him from over my shoulder seeing that had just undone his bowtie and was letting it hang under his unbuttoned shirt collar.

He started walking towards me. He took a moment to tower over me – like a male buffalo stands over his mate to convey his ownership of her – before kneeling down to me.

I threw my arm back, aiming to elbow him, or back hand him. Anything to hurt him.

He caught my weakened strike with ease and used his grip to tug me closer to him. “Sh. A woman moved is like a fountain trouble.”

“Don’t you throw Taming of the Shrew in my face.”

His eyebrows popped up in pleased surprise. “Well, at least you know your Shakespeare.”

He draped my arm over his shoulder before sliding his other arm under my legs. He picked me up and walked back to his seat, setting me down across his lap.

I fought against him with my feeble muscles. “Let me go.”

He put his finger to my lips, silencing me. “Hush darling. We mustn’t waste any time. After all, I still have to make up for our last meeting.”

Before I could protest, he brushed my hair off my shoulder and back. He leaned in, causing me to crane my neck as far away from him as I possibly could. He grabbed me by the back of my head to bring me closer.

His lips latched onto the skin the covered my stained neck muscles. The contact made my breathe hitch. I pushed against his chest and shoulders with my useless hands. I gave up on fighting when he licked this spot near the base of my neck. I grabbed his shirt in a fistful as he wrapped his lips around that spot and started sucking. The noise that I made when he did this made me slap my other hand over my mouth.

“No need to do that darling. I told you that no one can hear us.”

I wanted to punch him. I was worried about giving him the satisfaction of hearing me, not about the rest of the theatre hearing us.

His free hand slipped up my dress to rest on my knee. He gave it a firm squeeze, hitting the reflex that would’ve made me kick out if my legs hand been working. The hand on the back of my neck slid up, tangling its fingers into my hair. 

Everything was adding to the drowsy effect of whatever he drugged me with. The smell of the Gucci Guilt cologne. The sensation of his lips on my skin. His hand squeezing my knee. His hands messing up my hair. The sound of Don Giovanni trying to seduce Zerlina.

Hiddleston dragged his lips down my neck and over my collar bone when he suddenly stopped.

The next thing I knew, I was back on the ground with Hiddleston on top of me. He was covering my body almost protectively. I looked over his shoulder to see a spidering crack in one of the one way mirrors that cut our box off from the rest of the theatre. A bullet was stuck in the middle of the glass spider web. Through the speakers, I could hear the rest of the audience screaming and panicking.

That’s when everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 8

I cracked my eyes open.

I was in a darkened master bedroom. An entire wall must’ve been made out of windows because I could see daylight cracking through the side of the curtain.

And I was lying in a California King Size bed that was the length of the room.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before I looked down. I was wearing a Prussian blue, silk nightie with capped sleeves.

What the hell happened last night?

I thought back as hard as I could. All I could remember was that Hiddleston got me all dressed up and took me to the opera. Everything else was blurry after that.

Oh, god. 

This had to be Hiddleston’s bed.

What the hell did he do to me?!

Right when I was about to hop out of the bed to go find him and kick his ass, my hand feel on a note.

Good morning darling,

I don’t know how much you remember about last night, but I’m sorry about last night. Next time, we won’t be interrupted.

Feel free to take a shower and get cleaned up. There are some clothes that should fit you in the closet. When you’re finished, breakfast will be down stairs.

TWH

P.S. We did not have sex, and I did not rape you. Like I side, I’m a gentleman when I want to be.

I wouldn’t trust Hiddleston’s dying word on the bible, and I was even less inclined when I saw the hickey on my neck. That made me remember that he had drugged me at the opera and started trying to seduce me. Then, someone tried to shoot us.

I decided to double check everything while I was in the shower. From what I could tell, he had spoken the truth when he said that nothing sexual happened.

Still, I was pretty pissed about being drugged and seduced.

Besides, even if nothing happened, somebody had put me in the nightie. Which means that somebody saw me, at least, in my underwear, if not naked.

Once I was dressed in a tank top and shorts, I opened the curtains to illuminate the entire room. I looked around for something – anything I could use to fight my way out of the house or kill Hiddleston if I ran into him.

The best I found was a letter opener tucked into the mahogany desk. Not the best option, but at least it would do some damage with the right force behind it.

I took it into my hand, hiding the blade against my wrist.

I tip toed out of the room and down the stairs, trying to avoid making any sound.

I was about to walk into what was clearly the parlor when I looked to see a French patio doors. There was a table and two chairs. Hiddleston was sitting in one of the chairs with his back to me. His legs were crossed to support the newspaper that he was reading while sipping on some tea.

I flipped the letter opener in my hand until I was ready to kill. I stepped with the balls of my feet while making my breathing as silent as I could. I froze in once, when Hiddleston closed the newspaper and flipped it over to read the back. I didn’t resume my movements until he had settled himself.

I was right behind him poised to strike.

Right as I slammed the letter opener down, he leaned out of the way. I ended up stabbing the letter opener into one of the decorative holes in the patio table.

The next thing I knew, Hiddleston was twisting my arm behind my back and grabbed my hair, forcing me to bend over the table. Once I got my bearings, I reached my free hand up and started digging my nails into the hand in my hair, trying to get him to let go. All I really accomplished was getting him to grab my wrist, stretch my arm out in front me, and pin it down against the table.

As I struggled to get free, Tom clucked his tongue at me. “Now, is that any way to repay the man who took you out for a night at the opera, shielded you from a deadly shooting, and took you to his home to protect you?”

“Ugh. Maybe not, but is the way to deal with the scum who drugged my drink so that he could feel me up.”

“As I recall it, I didn’t touch you anywhere below the shoulder or above the knee, and I’ve already said you that I didn’t try anything while you were asleep.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not too hard for you to lie, and what you’re doing right now makes me even more inclined to not believe you.”

“My apologies, my lady.”

He released his holds on my hair and arm and stepped back, giving me enough space to stand up straight. I dusted myself off and straightened my clothes before turning to glare at him. All he did was off a smile while pulling out the vacant seat at the patio table.

I sat with weary reluctance and watched him carefully as he sat down in his own chair and took his paper back up.

“You still don’t believe me.”

“Somebody but that night gown on me.”

“That should be proof that I didn’t try anything. If I had, you’d have been naked.”

“Just cause I was clothed doesn’t mean that you didn’t cop a feel.”

“I’m not the one who changed you. That was Watsworth, my butler. All I did was pick out the gown.”

“So I should be okay with your butler having seen me naked.”

“Take it from me; you’re not his type.”

“How do you know?”

I looked at me from under quirked eyebrows before he reached for a small bell that was on the table.

With a little ring, a man in a suit and gloves came and stood at attention at the patio door.

“Watsworth, would please bring us our breakfasts now? Bring the lady whatever she wishes to drink?”

“Of course, sir. What will it be miss?”

“… Mimosa, please.”

“Excellent choice, miss.”

With that he was gone.

Now, my gaydar was never too good, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

I looked at Hiddleston, who was just giving me a “See?” look.

“Gotcha.”

He kinda gave a chuckled before returning to his paper, but in no time, he was starting up a new conversation. “A bit early in the morning to be having alcohol, isn’t it?”

“It’s also a bit early in the morning to be talking to you, so either you go, or I start drinking. What’s it gonna be?”

He gave another chuckle. 

That’s when Watsworth came back with two plates with silver plate covers and a mimosa in a champagne glass. He asked if there was anything else we needed before Hiddleston dismissed him.

I lifted the cover off my plate to find French toast with butter ball, peanut butter, and maple syrup. 

I looked up at Hiddleston from under cocked eyebrows. He was just smiling away, acting all innocent as he chewed on his poached eggs.

“Since when is my favorite breakfast meals included in my record?”

“They aren’t. I’ve been tracking your credit card number. Every time you go out for breakfast, you always order French toast with butter, peanut butter, and maple syrup.”

“Okay, now we’re getting into stalker territory. And if you’ve been using my credit card, identity theft and fraud.”

He put his utensils down to lean back in his chair. He spread his arms wide to show off. “Take a look around darling; what use do you honestly think that I have of your feebly funded credit card?”

“I’ve heard that cancelling someone’s credit cards or accounts is a good way to cut them off and make them helpless. You said yourself that there’s very little in the criminal world that you haven’t tried. Why should I give you the benefit of the doubt?”

“I have no need for such tactics.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll explain latter. Tuck in. We have a big day ahead of us.”

“We? Us? No, no, no. Moment I get done eating, I am outta hear.”

“I know where you live, darling, just like I know your credit card number.”

“When I said, ‘I’m outta hear’, I meant I’m outta the country. I can’t take this shit anymore.”

“Where will you go? Before you answer, know that if I don’t find you, your employer will. I said that he likes to tie up loose ends, but he really likes to tie up loose ends that are also traitors and deserters.”

“You two don’t run the world you know.”

He gave another chuckle. “You still think that my power is limited.”

I looked up at him, not liking the tone that he was taking. He shrugged me off, returning to his meal and saying, “Trust me; it’s in your best interest to stay.”

“And what are you gonna do to stop me from leaving?”

“Did you just ask that of the man who drugged you last night?”

Damn.


	9. Chapter 9

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 9

When we were done with breakfast, Hiddleston lead me through the rest of his house.

And when I say house, I mean Mansion. The thing took up entire damn hill and was complete with a pool, private movie theatre, and a twenty four hour fully staffed spa.

I had no idea what he needed any of these things for, but I didn’t ask questions. It just meant that I would have to be there longer.

We ended with a trip down to the basement.

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I saw. The whole place was dark except for huge, blinding lights that would’ve been used for a photo shoot or to make a film. In the middle of the lighted area was a chair and table.

Hiddleston went to stand behind the chair. “Please. Have a seat.”

What was this? And interrogation?

I sat down. I wouldn’t talk. I found him no more intimidating than the cops. And to me, the cops were just noisy little flies.

I settled into the chair before Hiddleston said, “I am very sorry about this.”

Suddenly, my arms were pulled behind my back. I felt cold steel slam around my wrists and heard them click into place. I tugged at the handcuffs, finding that they were weaved into the back of the chair.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Oh, I would love to hear how you made that logical jump.”

“It will all become clear momentarily.” Suddenly, he opened up my lapton that was on the table in front of me. “What’s your password?”

“Yeah, like I’d tell you.”

“Very well. Perhaps you’d like another mark on your neck to balance that one out.”

“Try it and get a foot in the face.”

Suddenly, he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He ripped off a start to a long strip, using the sound as his threat while he eyed my legs.

“… You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?”

I didn’t say anything, not sure whether he was or not anymore.

My silence made him loose patience. He started to go for my legs, making me cringe back. “Alright! Jesus! I’ll give you the password!”

In no time, he was in. “And the password to your Skype?”

“Same as the password to the computer.”

“Thank you darling.” With that, he went into my Skype and told the world that I was available to talk. Then, he straightened up and took up the duct tape again, ripping off a strip.

“Again, I am sorry about this.”

He came at my face, making me turn and twist away, kicking and screaming. I yelled at him to get away and get off of me. In the end, it was pointless. He pressed into right to my face, covering my mouth and muffling my screams.

If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure that Hiddleston would’ve shredded into a thousand pieces right in front of me.

Suddenly, I got an incoming Skype call… from my employer.

Hiddleston stepped to the side of the laptop so that he was out of shot before he answered that call and turned on the webcam. He let me sit in front of the lap top for a second before stepping into frame behind me. His hand slipped under my hair, grabbing me by the back of my neck and making me cringe my shoulders up around my ears.

He got down so that his mouth was right by my ear. He looked right at the camera and said, “Don’t you know to never send a pawn to take down a king?”

With that, my employer hung up, ending the call abruptly without saying a word.

Hiddleston stood up straight, releasing me as he said, “Works every time.” He reached into his pocket, pulling a small remote. One button, and black curtains along the wall started rising while the production lights disappeared up into the ceiling. By the end, the basement looked like a normal bedroom. A huge bedroom, but a normal bedroom.

Putting the remote away, he pulled out the key to my handcuffs. “There. Now that wasn’t so bad?”

I answered him by throwing the first hand that got free right into his face.

He rubbed his red cheek, saying, “A bit excessive for someone who just saved your life for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.”

I ripped the duct tape off my mouth, ignoring the pain so that I could yell at him. “Care to explain your logic to me, asshole?”

“Do you remember being shot at last night?” I nodded, impatiently. “Don’t you think it a bit coincidental that our shooter chose the night that you were accompanying me to make his move?”

“Pardon the pun, but maybe he was just taking a shot in the dark that you would be there.”

“I’ve been there every night this week, and, after talking with the box office, so has he. He was waiting for you.”

“Why?”

“Your employer seems to be getting impatient. He hired someone else to do the job that he paid you to do, but he still needs to get rid of you. Two birds. One stone.”

“So you want to explain to me why we are within thirty yards of each other when there’s some psycho out there who wants us both dead?”

“I have safe houses all over the world; he has no idea of knowing which one we are in right now.”

“And what’s to stop him from blowing up ALL of your safe houses all over the world?”

“If it’s not because he knows better than to underestimate me, then my guess is limited resources/budget. The fact that he’s been using an open Skype channel to keep in touch with you tells me that he has little at exposal. If he does have bombs, he has too few to cover all his bases, so instead, he needs to conserve them until he is more sure of himself.”

“That’s it. I’m getting the next flight out of this fucked up country.”

When I started to walk away, Hiddleston grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back. “That wouldn’t be wise. There’s no telling was he does have at arm’s length, despite his limited situation. Chances are someone working for him would find you and kill you before you even took off.”

“So what do I do?”

Hiddleston smiled as he widened his arms, showing off the room. “Welcome to your new home.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “You. Can’t. Fucking. Be serious.”

“You can’t go home; he’ll have someone come after you if they’re not already there, waiting. Besides, he thinks that I’ve got you prisoner now. He’ll know I lied if you run about willy nilly. Then, you’ll be dead, and I’ll be at a disadvantage.”

“I am not fucking staying here. I’ll take whatever death by fire this maniac has before I do that.”

“Sorry, love, but you don’t have a choice this time.”

“Fuck you! I’m getting outta here and you can’t stop me!”

When I tried to pull away, Hiddleston pulled against me, throwing me further into the room and away from the door. When I made another beeline for it, I was met with Hiddleston’s arm wrapping around my waist and throwing me against the wall. The impact made me grunt as he pinned me in place by my shoulders. I looked up to see his hard face an inch above mine. The look made my glare falter.

“You need to stop underestimating me, darling. That mistake has already started to cost you, and you can’t afford to lose much more. Remember; our game is still on, and until there is a victor, I am not letting you out of my site, let alone my country.”

His forehead came down to press against mine. “Do you really want to test the limits of a villain’s morals? Do you really want to know how far I am willing to go to keep you?”

I didn’t provide an answer because I didn’t have one. My mind had gone completely blank and I froze.

“I didn’t think so.”

He released me and stepped away. He started walking to the door, saying that he would come back and join me for lunch.

I didn’t snap out of my trance until I heard the door slam. Then, I ran to it. I tried pushing and pulling it open. I banged my fists and kick my feet at the door, screaming and demanding to be let out.

It didn’t take long for me to tire myself out and stop.


	10. Chapter 10

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 10

I was laying on the basement’s wall length California King Size bed – I had no idea what Hiddleston needed with two beds that fucking big – when I heard him come down a few hours later.

I lay on my side on top of the red comforter in the middle of the bed. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing and waiting.

I heard some shuffling; like he was taking off his jacket and his shoes.

Then I felt him crawl onto the bed behind me.

His hand fell on my shoulder. 

I snapped my eyes open as my hand reached up and grabbed his wrist I pulled him under me as I rolled until I was straddling his lower back. Keeping my grip on his wrist, I twisted his arm behind him. It didn’t hurt him but immobilized him at least.

I wasted no time before I started digging my hands into all of his pockets.

“I understand being in the mood darling, but don’t you think we should eat first?”

“Shut up.”

I kept feeling around until I realized that his pockets were empty. My free hand pushed his face down into a pillow, forcing him to look sideways to breathe. “Where’s is the key?”

“Oh, is that what you’re looking for?” Suddenly, he started wiggling the thumb of the hand that was behind his back. “Then, look no further.”

Well, that complicated things… but not by much.

I snaked my arm under his neck until my elbow was below his chin. I leased his arm to cradle my hand in the crook of my elbow and press my hand to the back of his head. I started squeezing my arms and arching my back, aiming to cut off the blood veins on the side of his neck. He’d, eventually, pass out for the lack of blood going to the brain. Then I could drag his body to the door, use his thumb, and make a run for it.

It was simple!

But I didn’t plan on his retaliation; he slipped a hand behind his back and rubbed it between my straddled legs.

“Gah!” The shock that went through my body made me released Hiddleston and jump back until I was falling off the bed.

“Ow!”

“Well, now that’s a very interesting position.”

I just realized that I was on my back with my legs wide open and up in the air. I quickly rolled until I was on my closed up knees and glaring at him.

With a chuckle, he stood up and straightened himself out as he walked towards the dumbwaiter (vintage much?). He opened the door and took out a silver-covered platter.

“I should punish you for that stunt, but I’d rather not make the food go to waste. Lord knows that I won’t be eating a Philly Cheese Steak Sub Sandwich with green peppers any time soon.”

I froze in place before turning my head, slowly, to look at his smirking face. I narrowed my eyes at him, saying, “Don’t toy with me, mister.”

With a chuckle, he set the platter down on the table and lifted off the cover.

I accepted his invitation for an inspection, standing up and going to the table. With a quick pass over with my eyes, I lifted off the top piece of bread, making sure that all the meet and condiments were there.

When everything checked out, I looked at Hiddleston, who was sitting back on the couch, looking pretty proud of himself.

“How did you get this?”

“What do you mean? I got it at a sandwich shop.”

“No, you got it at a specific sandwich shop. One that is only seen in Kansas City. I’ve eating at Firehouse subs enough times to know when one of their Philly Cheese Steak Subs is right in front of me. Now, I’ll ask again; how’d you get this?”

With a little laugh, he raised his hands in surrender. “You got me. I have a… client who lives in Kansas City. He got the recipe for me, I ordered the ingredients, and had Watsworth make it for you. And for what it’s worth, there’s enough for the ingredients left over for you to have that sandwich every day for the rest for the month.”

I crossed my arm over my chest. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Whatever makes you happy, darling.”

With lingering skepticism, I sat down at the table. I picked up one half of the sandwich, giving Hiddleston the look. He just kept on smiling. I turned back to the sandwich and took one, slow bite. I sank my teeth into the thing and pulled away, putting the half down. I set my forehead down on the table, slamming my hand against the top and moaning as I chewed. I didn’t stop until I swallowed.

“Was that what they call a ‘food-gasm’?”

I lifted my head off of the table to glare at Hiddleston, who was trying so hard to cover his amusement with the look of innocent questioning.

“… I haven’t had this sandwich since I was in Junior College. Give me a break.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“… Yes…”

“Wondering if you sound like that during a real orgasm.”

I snapped my head to look at him with wide eyes.

Suddenly, he burst out into laughter. “Your face is so red!”

“Shut up!”

…

Hiddleston let me finish the sandwich in silence before he offered me an Ice Breakers breath mint.

Once I was done with that, I fell onto the bed on my stomach, sighing at the satisfaction that came from the meal.

When I felt weight on my lower back and the hair being brushed from the back of my neck, I snapped my eyes open. “Whatcha doin’ there, cowpolk?”

With a humming chuckle, Hiddleston said, “Picking up where I left off last night.” I could feel his approaching breath on my skin, and it made my hair stand up on end.

“No, you’re not.” I laid my hands against the bed and started to push myself up when Hiddleston tangled his hand into my hair and pushed my head back down into the pillow.

He put his lips against the shell of my ear. “Yes. I. Am.”

Licked his way down from my ear to the back of my neck, where he started to kiss my exposed hair line.

I didn’t let him get far before I stretched my arm out straight in front of me. This allowed me to roll over under Hiddleston until I was on my back. The roll nearly knocked him over alone, but he steadied himself by grabbing me by my shoulders and pinning me down. I swept my arms up and out, throwing Hiddleston’s hands off me. Before he even had a chance to get another grip, I wrapped my around his waist, burring by face into his rock-hard abs and making him fall forwards from my weight. I bridged myself onto one of my shoulders, giving me the strength to roll him off of me until I was on top with his legs wrapped tightly around my waist. I dug my elbows into his thighs, hit a nerve that really hurt and made his release his grip.

Once he let me go, I scoop his leg up and over me, giving me the chance to roll of the bed and make a run for the bathroom.

I slammed the door behind me and quickly locked it.

Not a moment later, the door knob was jiggling and there was a fist banging against the door.

As Hiddleston yelled at me to open the door, I looked around for something to use as a weapon.

There were towels, fresh bottles of shampoo and conditioner, hand soap, and lotion.

Nothing that would work. Not even the shampoo or conditioner bottles were heavy enough to be effective. At least a can of air freshener could blind him briefly.

Suddenly, I heard the most terrifying noise ever; the sound of a key being worked into the door handle’s keyhole.

I spread-eagled myself against the door, trying to hold him back. It didn’t do much good; he forced his way in, pushing me all the way to the opposite wall.

When I turned to glare at him, I found that he was wearing that same look that he had on when I had tried to make a run for it earlier that morning. 

And it didn’t get any better when he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the handcuffs he had used on me earlier.

I was scared pissless and doing a piss poor job of hiding it.

“I have no problem with using these again. For real, this time. Whether I do or not is up to you.” 

I looked between him and the handcuffs, trying to convince myself that it was a bluff. That all of this was just an act. A show. A front that he puts on to lord over people.

I had a hard time believing myself, especially when Hiddleston became impatient and advanced on me until he was crushing me between the wall at my back and his body.

“I warned you about pushing me, and I’m warning you again. I won’t be so kind next time.”

He stepped to the side, providing a path for me.

“Please, resume your position, my Bane Mistress.”


	11. Chapter 11

You’re All Mine  
Chapter 11

I gulped, looking from the bed to Hiddleston to the handcuffs that were still hanging in his hand.

I didn’t know what to do. I was never one to give into threats, but that’s because all other threats that had ever been thrown my way had been made by a bunch of cowards who were just blowing hot air.

Hiddleston was serious. Dead serious. He may not have been explicit with the details of what would happen if I pushed him, but I could tell that there was something behind his threat and I didn’t want to know what it was.

Hiddleston lifted his hand and gestured towards the door, showing his shortening patience. 

I had to come to the decision that pissing him off now would not be the best idea. At least going along with his game gave me a better chance at surviving to escape another day.

I put my head down and walked out of the bathroom. I stood at the foot of the bed, not wanting to get back on it.

Hiddleston came up behind me, grabbing me by the back of my neck. I went rigid as he whispered huskily into my ear. “Get. Back. On. The. Bed.” With that, he pushed me onto the bed.

For a moment, I thought about grabbing one of the pillows and using as a weapon as best as I could. I decided against the idea, knowing that there wasn’t much I could do with it, and that doing anything would probably get me into deeper trouble. Instead, I got as comfortable as the situation would allow me to be and waited for the worst.

I felt Hiddleston crawl up and loom over me before sitting back on my butt. I felt something hard right between my crack and nearly had a heart attack.

When I tried to buck Hiddleston off, he pushed me back down by my shoulder, shushing me. “Calm down, darling. I’m saving that for another day. I know better than to use all my weapons at once.”

This did nothing to comfort or calm me. 

When I felt Hiddleston’s hands push my hair off my neck, I screwed my eyes shut, suppressing the shivers that his touch tried to coax out of me. It became harder to hide the shivers when I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck.

I hunched my shoulders up and tucked my head down. I knew that would push my neck closer to his lips, but it was the back of my neck, which was the least sensitive part. The other parts were all guarded by my shoulders. I hoped that he would get bored before he tried to go for the other parts.

Even though the back of my neck was the least sensitive, it was still pretty sensitive; once Hiddleston’s rough lips made contact with the flesh, my hands curled into fists, gripping the sheets beneath me and held my breath; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm or hearing me moan.

He must’ve gotten frustrated by the fact that I was keeping quiet. After a while, I felt his presence leave my neck. Just as I was about to look up to see if it was over, Hiddleston sunk his teeth into my hunched should, making cry out in pain.

When I threw my head back to try to get him to stop, he seized the opportunity to grab me by the hair and hold my face away from the pillow. He would not allow me to guard myself or hide myself any more.

Hiddleston smelled his way down my hair before reaching my ear, where he stopped to suck on the lobe. I wince as he took it between his teeth and closed his lips around it.

I hissed in surprised pain and tried to shrug my shoulder up to stop Hiddleston in his tracks. The action made him grip my shoulder as tightly as possible. It didn’t really hurt, but it made me feel more trapped than ever.

The seconds after were a blur of my sense of touch being overwhelmed by Hiddleston’s presence. The next true thing I remember is finding myself on my back with Hiddleston hovering over me. My senses were so shot and my mind was so overwhelmed that I didn’t even have the energy or idea to find back, so Hiddleston didn’t have to keep me pinned down. Judging from the look on his face, he was amused, but I couldn’t tell whether it was my reaction that amused him or my appearance; I know that I was blushing the deepest red you could possibly think of. My hair was messed up and tussled. I was breathing heavily, making my chest rise and fall rapidly as I tried to calm my mind enough to come up with an escape plan.

I wasn’t naive and I wasn’t a prude. I had just never been approached, tease, or treated this way. At least not with this level of intensity.

My brain was so shot that I didn’t even have enough of a mind to cringe away when Hiddleston lowered his lips right to my ear.

“Not to worry, my dear; this is the most that I’m going to do. I will not force myself upon you.” He pulled back enough to get a good look at my face. “Do you know why?”

I didn’t answer, trying his patience. He grabbed my jaw firmly without hurting me and made me look closer at him. “Do. You. Know. Why?”

I tried to shake my head “No” but he kept my face still. “Use your words.”

“No…”

“‘No’ what?”

“… No, sir…” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that that’s what he wanted.

“Ask me ‘Why’.”

“… Why?”

“ ‘Why’, what?”

“Why, sir?”

“I won’t force myself on you because the day will come when I don’t have to. You will welcome it. You will want it to happen. You will beg for it.”

“… Never, sir.”

During the long moments of silence that followed my answer, I thought I had screwed myself over. When Hiddleston laughed, I realized that he hadn’t taken my back talk seriously. He got off me, adjusted his clothes, and said, “I do love a challenge.”

He picked up my plat and used napkins and put them in the dumbwaiter, sending them up to the kitchen.

“I’ll see you at dinner, darling.”

With that, he left me on the bed to try and process what had just happened and what he predicted would happen in the future. In the end, all the facts and information led me to one simple answer…

… I needed to get out of there.

Fast.


End file.
